


Conflict Resolution

by lunaofthemiste



Category: Battle for London in the Air (Roleplay)
Genre: Beck sucks, Gen, Immortal Illuminati AU, Tristan can now earn a veteran's discount, other characters appear, this whole story is a joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaofthemiste/pseuds/lunaofthemiste
Summary: Tristan tries to fix his bad standing by resolving Beck's complaints to HR.  It goes about as well as you'd think.Inspired by 'The Office' episode of the same name.
Kudos: 4





	Conflict Resolution

Tristan sighed, surveying the large number of people crammed into the tiny conference room. It hadn’t been his idea to run the meeting, but he was trying to do everything in his power to get out of bad standing. “Is this everybody? Alright, nobody leaves until we work this out.”

“Nobody?” A voice yelled from the back.

“Nobody,” Tristan confirmed. “It’s like a...cage match? Not one on one, but you get the point.” He saw Andrew shake his head, indicating that this _wasn’t_ a cage match, but the metaphor was already out there. Rebecca was always better with words. “Since being brought back from the dead and rejoining our office, Thaddeus Beck-”

“ _Lord_ Thaddeus Beck.” Beck interrupted.

Tristan glared at him for a solid five seconds. “Do you _really_ want to do this right now? Everyone is here because of you.”

“Yes, because I filed reports to HR. Speaking of, why are you running this and not HR?” Beck asked.

“Because you filed a report _against_ HR. And a large portion of the agency.” Tristan explained. “This meeting needed to be run by an “impartial” party,” he said. “Or the last person standing,” he added under his breath.

Tristan took the silence around him as a sign to continue. “As I was saying, since being brought back from the dead and rejoining our office, Beck has filed approximately one hundred fifty complaints against several of you. We’re going to focus on addressing the biggest allegations and hopefully get through this stack,” he said, patting the stack of complaints. “Alright, when your complaint is called, feel free to speak out. Okay, so, Beck, in your own words. ‘Someone replaced all my pens and pencils with crayons. I suspect that Celine girl.’” He looked at Beck quizzically. “Really?”

“She did! I saw her do it!” Beck slammed his hands on the table. “She stole my calligraphy pens, how am I supposed to get any work done?”

Tristan glanced over at Celine. “Did you do this?” He asked nonchalantly.

Celine shook her head, not even looking up drawing on the pad she was holding. “I’ve been out on assignment until a few days ago.”

“Well, there you go. Case closed.” Tristan said as he flipped the sheet over.

“She’s using my pen!”

“This pen?” Celine asked innocently. “It was a gift I received years before your...reincarnation. You must be mistaken.”

Tristan shrugged. “Sorry, but she said she didn’t take it.” He picked up the next paper, reading it aloud. “‘Everyone has called me Byron all day. I think O’Rourke paid them to.’” He turned to Beck. “Which one?”

“The tall one.”

Tristan took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was doing this to put himself back in good standing. “That does not help. If you don’t know who did it, I’m dismissing the complaint.” He could see Andrew whispering something to Cordelia in the back, but had absolutely no desire to ask either of them about it.

Beck huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back into the chair. “The guilty party should clearly come clean.”

“Well, no one’s come forward, so I’m going to move onto the next one.” Tristan sighed. “‘I sent a very polite email asking for help and received a rude and unhelpful reply from that Jaydyn IT person.’”

“This happened several times, and continued even after I dared to open up my heart to you!” Beck declared, staring intently at Jaydyn, who was holding a coffee in one hand and their phone in the other.

Tristan cleared his throat. “Jaydyn, do you want to clear things up?”

“He sent a dumb request so I told him that,” Jaydyn said, scrolling through their phone.

“What did you write?”

Jaydyn seemed amused. “‘Ok boomer.’”

“Ha! You admit it!” Beck declared, seeming smug.

Jaydyn looked up from their phone to give Beck a look. “It’s in writing. It’s an email.” They rolled their eyes and looked back at their phone.

Tristan nodded, holding up the stapled complaints. “These all seem to be about Jaydyn, can I assume they’re all roughly the same?”

“Prolly. He sends a lot of emails.”

Tristan scanned through the complaints, most of them from Beck about a lack of responses from Jaydyn, though he noticed that the last one was different. “There’s one about a death threat, is this true?”

Jaydyn rolled their eyes. “If this idiot keeps plastering his goddamn face all over the internet he’ll be better off dead. No one wants to see that.”

“His death or his face?”

“His face. I have deleted twelve Instagram accounts, and I swear if you make an OnlyFans I’ll get someone here to finish you off for good.” Jaydyn threatened, all while scrolling through their phone.

Tristan made direct eye contact with Dr. Jhandir. “Don’t even say it.” He threatened before turning back to Beck. “Alright, so this is resolved now.”

“It certainly is not!” Beck objected. “I demand some sort of action!”

Tristan looked at Beck like he was an idiot, which wasn’t very hard. “I’m not HR. I can’t take action. Besides, we’re not going to fire our only good IT person.” He said sternly.

Celine looked over Jaydyn’s shoulder. “What are you doing?” She asked quietly.

“Livetweeting this meeting,” Jaydyn answered quietly, and Tristan had no idea what that meant.

Tristan picked up the next complaint. “‘I reached out to our former director asking for a role in one of his new films. I instead received a harsh response and a threat of a restraining order from his agent, Erwin.’” He stared at the paper for a minute. “I’m going to ignore that.”

“That’s absolutely absurd! I consider it a slight on my behalf, Keanu and I were in fact, dear friends.” Beck objected.

“Erwin doesn’t work here,” Tristan stated, wondering if he looked as frustrated as he felt. He put the complaint in the completed pile and picked up the next one. “‘My violin has been stolen by Linus Isham.’”

Cordelia sighed loudly. “We already talked about this.”

“He should return it! I don’t care if he thinks it belongs to him, it is mine.” Beck insisted. “After all, all of my other worldly possessions were _tragically_ destroyed, so it’s only fair that this one is returned to its rightful owner.”

Tristan cleared his throat. “Linus isn’t here, but I assume he’s not going to return the violin. Besides, I believe items become public domain seventy years after death.”

“That’s ridiculous, why would you even know that?”

Tristan shrugged. “No reason,” he said, even though it was Rebecca who had found out and was genuinely upset about her property becoming public domain. “Buy a new violin if it bugs you that much, but there’s nothing I can do about the related complaints.” He advised Beck, setting aside the complaints relating to lost property and picking up the next complaint. “‘I received a note that there was an EVIL agent in the loo. When I went to stop the agent, I saw Irving on the toilet.’” Tristan stopped and read it again to himself. “Oh my god.” He looked up at Irving, who looked _very_ uncomfortable, as did most of the occupants of the room. 

“I repeatedly yelled ‘occupied’ when I heard the scratches,” Irving explained, “and I have filed a corresponding complaint about the invasion of my privacy.”

“How was I to know there wasn’t an evildoer in there?” Beck asked. “I simply picked the lock to stop the perpetrator.”

Tristan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How about we never speak of this again, and we don’t pick the lock on the bathroom door.” He decided after a moment.

The complaints continued, most of them equally petty. 

“‘By the end of the day, my desk was about two meters closer to the copier.’”

“‘This morning I knocked myself in the head with the phone.’”

“‘Someone changed my email signature so it says “#1 John Keats fan”.’”

Every time, the complaint was ignored. Tristan didn’t want to deal with any of the issues long enough to come to an actual solution, and neither did anyone else in the room other than Beck. As he was reading the complaints, he realized that he missed Rebecca, especially since she would have dealt with the issues better.

He was grateful to reach the end of the pile, especially after what felt like several hours worth of complaints. However, the remaining complaints were stabled together, and all had a common target. Sighing once again, Tristan read the top complaint. “‘This morning I found a bloody glove in my desk drawer, and Anil Jhandir tried to convince me I committed murder. I think he may be the real murderer.’” He looked tiredly at the people before him. “An explanation?”

“Well, why else would a bloody glove be in his drawer?” Dr. Jhandir asked. “Clearly an attempt to hide damning evidence.”

Beck rolled his eyes, scoffing. “We all know who the _real_ murderer is.”

“Do we?” Dr. Jhandir retorted calmly.

“You were the one who killed me!” Beck exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

“He obviously didn’t do a good enough job,” Jaydyn muttered, earning small chuckles from the rest of the group and a glare from Dr. Jhandir.

“That’s not helping,” Tristan shook his head at Jaydyn.

Dr. Jhandir rolled his eyes. “Must we do this? It’s obvious that he holds an unfair bias against me.”

Tristan sighed. “It’s HR policy,” he explained. “To be fair, you both have biases against each other.”

Beck nodded. “He’s been out to get me for centuries!” He insisted.

“Mm-hm.” Tristan nodded, flipping through the other complaints against Dr. Jhandir. “Technically, we cannot do anything about the fact that you were killed, which is what most of these were about.”

“That is completely ridiculous, he murdered me in cold blood.” Beck spat.

“After you attacked him. It was pre-meditated.” Tristan pointed out, giving Beck a look. He surveyed the room, noticing that people looked angry, bored, or both. After an awkward silence, he spoke. “Alright, I think that’s as far as we’ll get with this. At least the complaints have been resolved.”

“They have not!” Beck objected.

“Thank you for your time, you’re all free to go,” Tristan said, ignoring Beck. He watched the group of immortals quickly exit the room, all pretending to not be in a rush to leave. 

The only straggler was Jaydyn, who was still on their phone. As they passed Beck on their way out, they made one last comment. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if you stanned Jungkook.”

  
  



End file.
